


Attrition

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Hate Sex, M/M, Mild speciesism, Rare Pair, Sparring, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12742329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: Vegeta growled under his breath. ‘I want you to beat me into the ground.’ It was almost physically painful to say it out loud, but at least it got Piccolo's attention.Piccolo opened his eyes, his expression otherwise remaining frustratingly stoic. ‘Why?’





	Attrition

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to my editor for all her invaluable assistance.

There weren’t many options to choose from on this backwards dirt-ball. Vegeta was floating just above the treetops and staring in the direction of the island where the half-saiyan brat and the human fighters tended to gather. Going in that direction would mean too many questions and too many people to convince. He turned around reluctantly, facing the direction of the only other worthwhile power level.

Piccolo had gotten a lot stronger since the first time Vegeta had faced him on Earth. Something about his resurrection, or maybe being on his home planet, had increased his power level to the point where he wasn’t an embarrassment. He wasn’t at Vegeta’s level of course, only Kakarot had managed the impossible with that, but he’d be strong enough for Vegeta’s purposes. And with a bit of luck, he wouldn’t be too difficult to persuade. Vegeta flew off deeper into the wilderness, tracking Piccolo’s distinctive energy.

His search took him to a wide grassy clearing beside a small stream. As he landed, Vegeta automatically noted the lack of cover or any terrain features that could be useful during combat. Piccolo was meditating in the centre of the glade and didn’t bother opening his eyes at Vegeta’s approach. It was clearly a deliberate insult, considering the way he must have been able to sense a superior power level.

Vegeta clenched his jaw and did his best to keep his tone civil. ‘You, Namek, I have a proposition for you.’

Piccolo’s eyes stayed resolutely closed. ‘Whatever it is, no.’

‘At least hear me out!’

Piccolo didn’t even bother with a verbal response this time and continued meditating. 

Vegeta growled under his breath. ‘I want you to beat me into the ground.’ It was almost physically painful to say it out loud, but at least it got Piccolo’s attention. 

Piccolo opened his eyes, his expression otherwise remaining frustratingly stoic. ‘Why?’ 

‘Because I... acquired... a senzu bean and losing a fight to you will make me stronger. Not that it will be much of a fight when I let you win.’ 

‘No, why would I help you?’ Piccolo clarified. He folded his arms.

A saiyan wouldn’t have needed to ask that question. They would have understood immediately and agreed. That was the problem, of course. Kakarot should have been Vegeta’s natural choice, but even if that tail-less bastard had been here, he had no real saiyan instincts and would probably have been puzzled or _concerned_ by Vegeta’s request. Piccolo was no saiyan either, but out of all the options, there was a chance he could be persuaded.

‘For the joy of it!’ Vegeta replied, exasperated. 

‘Right.’ Piccolo’s level tone was supremely unconvinced.

Vegeta’s hands fisted at his sides. ‘Don’t act like you’re somehow above it. You don’t get as good at fighting as you are without enjoying it. And you _are_ good at it, for an alien.’ 

Piccolo was unmoved by the flattery. ‘And I’m supposed to think it’s a good idea to help _you_ get more powerful.’

‘Kakarot will be back here sooner or later. And he… he’s a super saiyan now.’ Vegeta choked on the admission. He couldn’t explain further, couldn’t say that even this exchange wouldn’t make him powerful enough to face Kakarot. The only option was to grow his power through training and defeats.

Piccolo smiled and it was an ugly, mocking expression. ‘So you’re saying it wouldn’t matter if I helped you. You’d still be weak compared to Goku.’ Vegeta gritted his teeth and nodded tightly. ‘And you just won’t fight back,’ Piccolo continued. ‘I find that pretty hard to believe.’

Vegeta scowled. ‘I’m stronger than you and anyone else on this dirt-ball. Fighting back wouldn’t get me what I wanted.’

‘Beating an opponent who isn’t fighting back hardly sounds like fun. Even if it is you.’

Vegeta ground his teeth together. ‘You’re never going to get a chance like this again! And wouldn’t it satisfy that itch to be able to hurt me? You’re not like the other weaklings on this pathetic planet. You enjoy hurting an opponent. I’d know.’

Vegeta was surprised that _this_ was the comment that earned him a scowl. ‘Who told you about me?’ Piccolo growled.

Vegeta blinked. ‘Who told me what?’

Piccolo stared at him for a long moment and Vegeta stared back. He wasn’t about to lose the battle of wills. ‘Never mind,’ Piccolo said after a long moment.

‘What?’

‘Fine. I’ll help, but you’ll owe me.’

Vegeta sneered. ‘We’ll see.’

‘I still don’t think you’re going to be able to hold back.’

‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’

The corner of Piccolo’s mouth lifted. It bared one of his fangs and it was an effort for Vegeta not to stare. ‘We’ll see.’

Piccolo stood to his full height and Vegeta adjusted his stance automatically, his body preparing itself for combat. 

Piccolo eyed him. ‘Maybe you should put your hands down if you’re just going to let me hit you.’

‘Maybe you should stop stalling and actually do something!’

Piccolo sighed and shifted his own stance. Vegeta tensed, waiting. He’d eventually let that stupid human strike him back on Namek, even if he hadn’t been able to stop himself from deflecting the first blow. Whatever Piccolo did to him, he’d be back to full strength seconds after the battle was over. He could do this.

Piccolo’s leg shot out in a low sweep. Vegeta reflexively leapt up to avoid the kick and crashed into Piccolo’s fist instead. The indignity of falling for the feint had him baring his teeth, but he forced himself to drop back to the ground. This was what he wanted, after all.

Piccolo was grinning at him. ‘I guess you were right. That was fun.’

Vegeta’s lip curled. ‘I’m going to need more than that.’

‘Oh, we’re just getting started.’

Beneath the calm assurance in Piccolo’s tone there was just a hint of malice and Vegeta suppressed a shiver. Every instinct was telling him to fight back, to match himself against Piccolo’s power and claim victory. He stamped down hard on the feeling and braced himself. ‘Do it.’

Without wasting words on a reply, Piccolo struck again. Vegeta took the hard kick to his ribs without resisting. The pain ripped at his control, but he managed to let Piccolo’s next punch take him directly in the chest as well. His breath rushed out and he gaped. With his lungs burning, he blocked Piccolo’s next punch and delivered his own kick.

Piccolo dodged back to disengage. ‘I knew you couldn’t hold back,’ he said.

‘If I’d really been fighting back, you wouldn’t have been able to dodge,’ Vegeta panted. 

Piccolo circled around to Vegeta’s flank. ‘Even while you’re winded? I think you panicked.’

‘I’m a saiyan elite! I don’t _panic_.’

Piccolo surged forward, striking quick and precise. Vegeta didn’t block, didn’t dodge, and pain lanced through his shoulder. This whole exercise was showing him just how important it was to avoid getting hit in normal combat. Letting the strikes land was draining his power much quicker than usual. Piccolo’s next punch was to the exact same place and Vegeta grunted at the impact. He turned, catching the follow-up strike on his forearm instead. Piccolo had aimed for his shoulder again and the pattern became clear.

‘I know what you’re doing,’ Vegeta snarled. 

‘Giving you what you want?’

‘You’re targeting my breath, my joints. You want to make it impossible for me to fight back.’

‘I’m just helping you keep up your end of this. Surely it doesn’t matter _how_ I take you apart?’ Something dangerous was glinting in Piccolo’s eyes and when he went in for the next strike Vegeta blocked it again. ‘Having second thoughts?’ Piccolo taunted.

‘Never. Keep going!’ Vegeta demanded.

‘Then stop fighting me.’ Piccolo’s foot lashed out and Vegeta turned with the impact, shedding some of the force, but not quite dodging.

‘I’m not fighting. I’m barely defending. I should be...’ Vegeta trailed off and stared hard at Piccolo. He blocked the next couple of strikes as realisation dawned. ‘You should be hitting harder. You’re not this weak or I wouldn’t be bothering with you.’

Something flickered in Piccolo’s expression. ‘I’m testing the waters,’ he muttered. ‘Making sure you don’t suddenly turn on me.’

‘Maybe for those first couple of strikes. But not now. You’re drawing this out on purpose, aren’t you?’

‘So what?’ Piccolo was aiming for casual, but his rigid stance and the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

Vegeta’s pulse raced and his expression sharpened. ‘You’re _enjoying_ this. Is it about revenge?’

Piccolo didn’t deign to answer, but his next strike was much harder. Vegeta blocked it, but there’d be bruises on his forearm.

‘What exactly are you paying me back for? For threatening your little protégé? Or is it for all those Nameks I slaughtered back on your homeworld? When you still had one, that is.’

The flash of rage across Piccolo’s face was surprisingly deep and the way it twisted his features made him look like someone else for a moment. He leapt forward with a roar and Vegeta barely blocked the vicious punches to his face. With his weakened shoulder, he wasn’t quite fast enough and one slid past his guard, solidly connecting with his cheek.

Vegeta grunted. Pain flared in his skull and he could tell the strike had been at Piccolo’s full strength. Things had gotten dangerous and Vegeta surged forward to meet Piccolo’s next attack. He’d had enough of this one-sided combat. 

Piccolo’s eyes widened as Vegeta’s fist sailed toward his face. He blocked at the very last second, grimacing at the force of the collision. Vegeta bared his teeth in a fierce smile. He ignored the ache from exerting his shoulder and went in for a mid-strike. Piccolo dodged upward and Vegeta followed. They were in the air now, a shift that sacrificed power for manoeuvrability. 

‘Giving up, then?’ Piccolo shouted.

Vegeta snarled. Fighting back shouldn’t ever feel like giving in, but he _was_ letting his instincts override his control. Piccolo’s taunts were only making it worse. There was no way Vegeta could stop now that he’d started. He flew at Piccolo, the full force of his rage and indignation fuelling his attack. His fist collided with Piccolo’s ribs and feel of it made him grin. Piccolo struck back in retaliation. The change in his style was immediately apparent. Vegeta couldn’t avoid the next punch to his shoulder. Pain ran through the joint and he gritted his teeth against a howl. Piccolo wasn’t playing any more, but his expression had gone blank and his focus was like a narrow beam. It was such a bizarre way to fight. Vegeta couldn’t tell if Piccolo was even feeling rage, let alone hate. Maybe that was just how Nameks were. 

The next strikes got through Vegeta’s guard. He was tired and it showed every time his defences were compromised. His body ached from the beating he’d already taken and his power level was dipping. Anger was the only thing that gave him the speed he needed to get through Piccolo’s defence, but he was repaid for every blow. In contrast, Piccolo’s attacks were fresh and powerful. He struck hard enough to dent and tear through Vegeta’s armour. Soon bruises were littering Vegeta’s body and he bled from lacerations opened from sheer force. This had become a gruelling test of endurance. 

As Vegeta got slower and clumsier, something changed again in Piccolo’s style. His strikes got weaker and the cold, blank look was fading from his eyes. It was replaced by sharp interest and a strange heat. Piccolo knocked aside Vegeta’s next strike and he smirked. He was playing again. Vegeta roared in frustration and redoubled his attack. But even scraping together the last dregs of his strength wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get through Piccolo’s defence. It was like throwing himself against a forcefield, but he wouldn’t stop, couldn’t give in, even if this had started as a deliberate attempt to lose a fight.

Piccolo put serious power and speed behind his next strike. Vegeta tried to dodge, but could sense himself falling short of the speed he needed. In the last second before the impact, he shut his eyes. Pain blossomed through his jaw and the power of the strike sent him reeling. Vegeta’s back slammed against the ground without him registering the moment he fell. The breath left his lungs a moment later as Piccolo followed him down, deliberately landing hard against his chest. Piccolo’s fists slammed into Vegeta’s shoulder twice more, until his whole joint ached with it. Vegeta could only let it happen while he struggled to get his breath back. Piccolo was breathing heavily too, and for a moment neither of them moved.

The stillness between them was almost tangible and Vegeta felt the defeat settle on him. It didn’t matter that this had been his choice, he was reacting exactly as if the combat had been real from the very beginning. His shoulder went numb as his body’s natural painkillers took hold, and he was dizzy with the sheer relief of it. He almost grinned.

With the pain fading away, Vegeta was able to feel subtler sensations and he noticed blood dripping down his mouth from a split lip. He licked at it reflexively, the coppery taste deeply tied into violence and defeat. Piccolo was staring down and his gaze fixed on the movement. 

The fight was over and Vegeta hadn’t been looking for anything more than that, but now that he was riding the post-combat high, the taste of blood in his mouth was messing with his instincts. ‘Is that it?’ he panted. ‘I definitely spilled more blood on Namek than this.’

Piccolo’s expression twisted a second before his fist rammed into Vegeta’s face. A sound tore from Vegeta’s throat, but he barely felt the pain of it this time. Instead, the numbness in his body was fading to a weird prickly feeling that made his skin feel too tight. Piccolo was leaning closer now, his hard eyes staring right into Vegeta’s.

‘Are _you_ enjoying this? Stop goading me,’ Piccolo growled. His fangs were showing again as he gritted his teeth and Vegeta couldn’t stop staring. They looked sharp. Dangerous.

‘I’m not the only one enjoying this,’ Vegeta said. And maybe it was true, but not in the right way, not in the way it would be for another saiyan. 

Piccolo seized him by the front of his battered armour and drew him forward until they were close enough to be sharing breath. ‘Maybe I am,’ he said quietly. The silence stretched between them again, but Vegeta barely recognised it over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. It was impossible to tell with an alien, but maybe, just maybe, the violence and the victory were getting to him in the right ways.

‘Maybe there is something wrong with me,’ Piccolo muttered before leaning forward and attacking Vegeta with his mouth. His fangs scraped against Vegeta’s lip and… fuck that was his tongue licking the blood off Vegeta’s teeth. 

Vegeta seized Piccolo’s shoulders and pulled him closer. His pulse was thundering in his ears. _Yes_. This was exactly what his whole body had been screaming at him ever since his back had collided with the ground and that green fist had slammed into his face. He tore his mouth away from Piccolo’s long enough to gasp for breath. 

‘How are _you_ a better saiyan than Kakarot?’ Vegeta demanded.

Piccolo bared his teeth. ‘How are you a more annoying saiyan than "Kakarot"?’

Vegeta didn’t waste breath on a response and leaned forward again to bite at Piccolo’s mouth. He pressed deeper to trace those pointed fangs with his tongue. Piccolo bit him back, and while it wasn’t even close to the amount of force he could exert, the threat of it was enough to send a shiver down Vegeta’s back. 

The Namek’s ungainly, oversized body made the angles difficult and Vegeta tried to shift out from beneath his overbearing bulk. Piccolo grabbed him by the wrists in response and slammed him back down against the grass. The shock of it reverberated through Vegeta’s shoulder, but instead of pain a deep heat throbbed through the joint. Vegeta groaned and his hips lifted against Piccolo reflexively. The hunger for another kind of violence was burning through him.

Piccolo shifted his grip to pin Vegeta’s good arm beneath his other wrist so any movement would jar his shoulder. The manoeuvre was just the sort of low cunning Vegeta expected from someone with an inferior power level. It left Piccolo with a free hand that he ran down the front of Vegeta’s armour, lingering over the tears and pressing against the visible wounds. Even with post-combat hormones flooding his system, Vegeta still felt a twinge of pain beneath the heat of Piccolo’s touch. It was perfect.

When Piccolo leaned down over him again, he surged up and managed to sink his teeth into Piccolo’s lip hard enough to pierce the skin. Piccolo drew back with a curse and his hand tightened against a particularly vicious cut across Vegeta’s ribs. The sensation ripped through him, too intense to be merely painful. Vegeta groaned and licked Piccolo’s blood off his own lip, elated by the strange, bitter taste of it.

Piccolo’s eyes flashed with heat, possibly even real anger. Vegeta bared his teeth. ‘If you’re not going to let me up, at least stop playing around.’

Piccolo was staring at him, his gaze searching. ‘Is this normal for you?’ he asked and ground down where he was practically straddling Vegeta’s lap.

Vegeta’s eyes slid shut against his will and his hips snapped up to meet the friction. He was achingly hard and the sparks of pain through his shoulder and wounds made everything better. He forced himself to open his eyes again. It was too dangerous to relax his guard, especially now. ‘Yes! Now are you going to do anything or not?’

Piccolo stared for a moment longer before shifting down to Vegeta’s thighs. His grip on Vegeta’s wrists stayed firm even as he tore at the battered armour below Vegeta’s waist. Vegeta was too far-gone with eagerness to summon indignation about that. It wasn’t long before he was bared. Piccolo made a contemplative sound and ran the palm of his hand firmly up the underside of Vegeta’s cock. Vegeta bit back a curse and arched into the touch as far as he could with Piccolo still weighing down his legs. 

‘You’re hard,’ said Piccolo.

‘Oh, and you’re not?’ Vegeta retorted. He was nearly certain by this point that Piccolo was feeling this as much as he was. There was too much heat in his gaze, too much intent in the way he was aggravating the wounds he’d painted on Vegeta’s body. He’d enjoyed the violence too much to have stayed detached from this.

Piccolo’s lip lifted in a strange little smirk before he tore at his own battle gear. He wasn’t stupid enough to give Vegeta an opportunity to get up, even if meant damaging his own clothes. 

This time Vegeta stared. He’d known Piccolo was an alien, but he hadn’t really considered the implications. Especially not when he was so frequently surrounded by humans who almost looked normal. ‘So that’s what Nameks have.’

Piccolo’s expression flickered, but it was impossible to read. ‘Yes.’

‘You have both,’ Vegeta pointed out.

Piccolo rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘mammals’. His gaze went back to Vegeta’s face. ‘Having second thoughts?’

Vegeta sneered. ‘Are you calling me a coward? Only the most pathetic un-saiyan weakling would back down now, just after a fight.’

‘…right. I’m beginning to think this isn’t a saiyan thing, and just a _you_ thing.’

Vegeta was only half listening. Instead his focus had narrowed to the ache in his own cock. Piccolo wasn’t hard, but his cock looked strange enough that Vegeta wasn’t sure if it even _did_ that. But he was certain Piccolo was aroused. There was a slick looking sheen to his cock and the opening right behind it. 

‘Do something, already!’ Vegeta growled. He needed violence, needed touch, needed anything that wasn’t just talking and staring. In the wake of defeat he wanted it with everything he had left in him.

Piccolo smirked down at him. ‘Hard to resist an invitation like that.’ He shifted forward and Vegeta finally got the skin-to-skin contact he’d been craving. The slick pressure against his cock was overwhelmingly good and Vegeta’s head thudded back against the ground. Pain flared in his shoulder as he reflexively made a grab for Piccolo, only to be stopped short by the unrelenting grip on his wrists.

‘Let me touch you!’ Vegeta demanded, straining against Piccolo’s hold. The pain was a welcome counterpoint to the pleasure lighting up his nerves. This kind of intensity of feeling was absent during battle and his head was swimming with it.

Piccolo squeezed Vegeta’s wrists. ‘That definitely sounds like a good idea,’ he said. His voice had gone hoarse, but it was clear he wasn’t about to let go. Instead he just ground down harder. Vegeta’s cock was trapped between their bodies and he couldn’t tell which bits of Piccolo were sliding against him. The sensation had him arching, his back bowed between the points where Piccolo was holding him down. A frustrated whine tore from his throat and his eyes slid shut again. He wanted to grab at Piccolo’s hips, help set the rhythm and get more of that hard press of bodies.

Piccolo’s free hand traced the straining muscles of Vegeta’s side. ‘You look like you’re going to break something,’ he panted.

Vegeta forced his eyes open to look up at Piccolo. His skin didn’t show any kind of flush, but there was sweat on his brow that hadn’t been there during the fight and there was nothing impassive about his expression now. He pushed his hips down harder and Vegeta gasped, his back crashing down to the ground again. His fingers twitched weakly.

Piccolo made a noise low in his throat. ‘Fuck. Don’t make me regret this, Vegeta,’ he said and suddenly the pressure around Vegeta’s wrists vanished. 

Vegeta instantly scrabbled for Piccolo’s hips, digging his fingers into the unyielding muscle and ignoring the sharp pain that lanced through his arms and shoulder. Piccolo grunted, but didn’t try and stop him. 

Vegeta groaned as he managed to press himself harder against Piccolo by pulling them closer together. The pleasure was nearly an ache from the sheer intensity of it. Spots danced at the edges of Vegeta’s vision. He thought he was speaking, or maybe just making noises. He could barely register anything other than the pulse thudding through him and the feel of Piccolo’s slick flesh bearing down on him. The pleasure spiked, hitting him like a strike to the gut. His body tensed and every cut and bruise made itself known as his muscles strained. The cry he uttered barely sounded saiyan and for a few moments he lost the sense of his surroundings and even Piccolo. 

It was an effort to rally his thoughts. The first thing that occurred to Vegeta was that if Piccolo had wanted to kill him, he would have done it at the end of the fight. He opened his eyes. Piccolo had a self-satisfied expression on his face and the increased slickness between their bodies probably meant he’d gotten whatever it was Nameks got out of sex.

That unique feeling of pain followed by sharp release left Vegeta exhausted and contented. He had gotten a lot more than he’d expected out of this fight and he respected that Piccolo had followed one kind of brutality with another. It had been too long and Vegeta hadn’t even realised just how much he’d been craving complex violence again.

Piccolo’s hand ran down Vegeta’s side, firm and insistent, and he arched into the touch. He barely registered what was happening until the touch withdrew and Piccolo held Vegeta’s senzu bean up in front of his face. A flash of indignation ran through Vegeta but Piccolo was already standing.

‘I guess this is mine now,’ said Piccolo.

Vegeta pushed himself up on his elbows, before collapsing back from fatigue. ‘Don’t you dare, you filthy Namek!’ he shouted hoarsely. 

Piccolo flashed him a smile that was all teeth and fangs before taking off. ‘You’ll heal,’ he called back over his shoulder.

‘Get back here!’ Vegeta snarled, but Piccolo was already out of sight. That bastard! Incandescent rage flared through Vegeta, the feeling potent enough to drive him to his feet. He was barely able to stand straight and movement brought tingling pain to every wound, but he hadn’t felt this alive in months. 

He looked up toward the direction where Piccolo had flown and laughed until it ached. He’d made the right choice in coming here and just as soon as he healed, he was going to hunt down that Namek and make him pay. It would be a spectacular fight and this time Piccolo was the one who was going to end up beaten and on the ground. And from the look of things, he might just appreciate it.


End file.
